


Angel Band

by missbuntwell



Category: The Monkees, Touched by an Angel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-22
Updated: 2012-05-22
Packaged: 2017-11-05 19:26:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/410151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missbuntwell/pseuds/missbuntwell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Vietnam war causes a rift between Mike and the guys that lasts thirty years.  Then, a tragedy and three angels bring them back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel Band

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written in 2002, or sometime around then, and posted at Storybook Monkees and Long-Title Yahoo groups. Two wonderful friends helped me out a bit-Leenys and Tommyboy (who has stories posted here, too). I will always be grateful to them both.

*Chapter One*  
November 1997  
The three angels stood at the end of the bar, unseen by the patrons of the lounge not far from the beach in Malibu.  
"There’s part of our assignment," Tess said to Monica and Andrew as she nodded her head in the direction of a middle-aged man with gray hair and a beard, sitting at the bar drinking a scotch.  
"Is he all right?" Monica asked. "He looks troubled."  
"He is, child. It all started in 1967 when he and three friends lived together in a beach house and played together in a rock band."  
~~~~~~~~~~  
June 1967  
Drafted. The word blew through Mike Nesmith’s head like a haunting wind. He read the letter in his hand again, hoping he had read it wrong the first time. He was to report to the Army base in one week. He had one week to prepare his friends and family and especially himself for the reality of Vietnam.  
Mike folded the official paper and slipped it inside the envelope.  
"Um, I’m going for a walk on the beach. Be back later," he said stuffing the envelope in his back pocket and quickly leaving the house through the back door.  
"Okay," Peter said from the kitchen sink where he was washing dishes.  
"Wonder what was in the mail?" Micky questioned.  
"Don’t know, but whatever it was, it must have been pretty heavy stuff," Davy said sitting on the couch with a magazine.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
Mike walked along the water’s edge thinking about what he had to do in the next week. First, he had to tell the guys. They would either have to get another guitar player or break up the band.  
Then, he would have to call his mother. This would break her heart. Maybe he would have time before he shipped out to go to Dallas and say goodbye in person. Doing it over the phone would never work.  
And then he would have to break the news to Natalie. Why did this have to happen now? He had finally found someone he enjoyed spending time with and someone that understood him. He would hate to leave her but he wasn’t going to do what some guys did and marry her before he left. He loved her but he didn’t think he was ready for marriage.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
A month later, after going through a battery of physicals and a haircut, which he hated, he was standing at the door of the pad, dressed in his army fatigues, Army issue duffel bag in his hand, to tell his friends goodbye. He had gone to see his mother the week before and it was now time to leave for the God forsaken place known as Vietnam.  
"Davy, don’t break too many hearts while I’m gone," he said with a smile, extending his hand for Davy to shake. But, to Mike’s surprise, Davy, with tears in his eyes, gave him a hug instead. Mike almost couldn’t keep his composure, though he was trying desperately to do so.  
"I’ll do my best. You try to get back home without getting hurt."  
Mike let go of Davy and nodded, turning to Peter.  
"Here, Mike," Peter said holding out his closed fist to Mike.  
Mike smiled slightly and held his hand out to accept Peter’s gift. Peter dropped a silver dollar into Mike’s hand.  
"What’s this?" he asked, looking it over.  
"It’s a good luck charm. My Grandfather gave it to me when I was ten and now I’m passing it on to you. It brought me luck and now it can bring you luck." Peter stood in front of Mike, smiling that dimpled smile. Oh, but he would miss that innocent, genuine smile. Mike put the coin in his pocket and then gave Peter a hug. At first Peter was stunned at the display of emotion, but then he happily returned the hug.  
"Take care of yourself and come back in one piece."  
"I will," Mike answered, letting go of Peter and stepping in front of Micky.  
"Well, buddy. I guess this is goodbye." He looked at the young man in front of him, his best friend in the whole world. They had not known each other long but they were as close as brothers.  
"Yeah, but only a temporary goodbye," Micky said, giving Mike a smile.  
"Only temporary," Mike agreed, putting his arm around Micky’s shoulder, giving him a long hug. When he finally pulled himself away they both had tears in their eyes. "I’ll never forget you." Mike could only whisper because of the emotion he felt.  
The words Mike spoke gave Micky an uneasy feeling, like maybe Mike thought he wouldn’t be back. He nodded and turned away.  
"And you," Mike said to Natalie, his girlfriend. "If I don’t come home, promise me you will go on with your life. You’re a wonderful girl and you shouldn’t be alone. And these guys are here if you need anything." He gathered her in his arms and held her tight, taking in the sweet smell of her dark hair.  
"Don’t worry about me, Mike. Just concentrate on coming back home."  
They heard a car horn outside and Mike pulled away from Natalie.  
"There’s my ride." He looked at each of his friends as if trying to remember everything about them, then leaned down and gave Natalie a long, sweet kiss. Then he opened the door and turning back to them with a tear slipping down his cheek, said, "Goodbye." He walked out the door to a world he had never seen before and one he would never want to see again.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
"We got a letter from Mike’s mom," Micky said as he came in the door bringing the mail with him. Mike had been gone a year and things were a lot different without him. They still played gigs occasionally, but they were too busy with their full time jobs to play many gigs.  
"What does she have to say?" Peter asked coming to stand by Micky‘s side.  
"Mike’s mom? She never writes to us." As soon as Davy said it, the realization hit them that this could not be good news.  
Micky carefully opened the envelope and took the letter out. He quickly scanned the words, turning a ghostly shade of white. He looked at Davy, then Peter.  
"She, she says she got a letter from the Army. They say Mike’s a POW." There was complete silence in the room as they stood, trying to make sense of the information.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
"No, it can’t be true," Natalie said, shaking her head. Micky had gone to her apartment to tell her the news.  
"I’m sorry, Nat. But it is. His mom sent a copy of the official letter." Micky took her in his arms and held her as she cried.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
November 1997  
"And for the next two years they had no word about him," Tess said, telling them the story.  
"What happened?" Monica asked.  
"Well, baby. That’s where things get rocky for these five friends."  
*Chapter Two*  
"What do you mean by that, Tess?" Andrew asked.  
"Well, while Mike was gone, Micky and Natalie became very close. After a year of no word about where Mike was or if he was even still alive, they started dating and eventually got married."  
"What about Mike? " Monica questioned curiously.  
"Two years after his capture, he was rescued and sent to an Army hospital for six months. He was very sick and malnourished. His mother had passed away during that time so there was no one to tell his friends what was going on. He showed up back at the beach house one Saturday afternoon in 1970."  
~~~~~~~~~~  
1970  
"I’ll get it," Davy said when he heard a knock at the door.  
"Yes," he said opening the front door. He froze when he saw who was standing there in front of him. At first he didn’t recognize the tall, slim man with the dark beard and long hair but when he looked into the man’s eyes, he knew immediately who he was. Those eyes looked in to the very depths of Davy’s soul.  
"Mike," he whispered.  
"Yeah, it’s me."  
Davy grabbed his arm and pulled him into the house throwing his arms around his missing friend’s shoulders.  
"I can’t believe it’s really you. We thought you were gone for good."  
Mike hugged Davy back, enjoying the love and friendship he had missed the past three and a half years.  
"Nah, it’d take more than that to get me," Mike said, finally pulling away from Davy. They stood back, each looking over the other.  
"You haven’t changed a bit," Mike said.  
"You certainly have though," Davy smiled, eyeing Mike’s beard.  
"Hey, Davy," Peter said as he came out of the bedroom. "Who was at the...?" He stopped suddenly when he saw the man with Davy.  
"Mike?" he asked then ran to his long lost friend, almost knocking them both down with his hug. "It really is you!"  
"Yeah, Peter. It’s me." Mike couldn’t help but smile. He had missed Peter’s innocent, childlike personality.  
Peter led Mike to the couch.  
"Sit down," he gently insisted.  
Before Mike sat down, he reached into his pocket.  
"Here, Peter," he said, sitting and holding out his closed fist to Peter.  
Confused, Peter looked at Mike. "What is it?"  
Mike dropped the item in Peter’s hand and watched his eyes light up.  
"My silver dollar!" he exclaimed.  
"I managed to hang on to it the entire time although I have no idea how. It must really be a good luck charm, because here I am. Back home," Mike said, holding his hands out and smiling while Davy and Peter laughed.  
"So, where’s Micky?"  
Davy and Peter both fell silent and looked at each other. Finally, Davy spoke up.  
"He’s out on the beach. He doesn’t live here anymore, but he came to spend the afternoon today."  
"Great. I want to see him," Mike said as he started to get up.  
"Hey, you two should have seen what Mi..." Micky was talking as he came in the patio door and stopped when he saw the small group on the couch. "Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had company."  
Mike stood up and turned toward Micky. "Mick, it’s me."  
Micky couldn’t say a word. He just stood, frozen in place. Suddenly, he shot to Mike and grabbed him in a huge hug.  
"I can’t believe you are really here." Micky held on to him for a few more moments. "It’s good to see you again."  
"It’s good to see you, too."  
He had missed his friends more than even he knew. They broke from the hug and sat down on the couch, side by side.  
"So," Micky started. "Are you okay? We never heard anything but that you were..." Micky stopped, not knowing whether he should mention the ordeal or not. He looked to Mike with the unspoken question.  
"Captured. You can say it, Mick. It’s all right. I spent two years in a Vietnamese POW camp. But I’m back now." He smiled at Micky to let him know everything was okay. "So what’s up with you guys? What’s been going on while I was gone?"  
Peter, Davy and Micky exchanged worried glances then Davy spoke up.  
"I started acting in a small community theater and just about eight months ago landed a pretty good role in a movie, a small but good part. I think acting is my thing. I love it."  
"And I’ve been playing music in some of the clubs around town," Peter said.  
"By yourself?"  
"Yeah, just me. I really love it, too. I’ve got a steady gig at The Blue Room. It’s a nice place not too far from here," Peter explained.  
"That’s great." Mike was very proud of Peter at the moment. "I’m happy for you. What about the band? Do you guys ever play together?"  
"Sometimes, but not very often. We don’t get much time for that anymore," Davy said.  
Mike turned to Micky then. "Well, Micky. What have you been up to?"  
Micky fidgeted a bit. He had to be very careful how he answered that question.  
"Well, I got involved in the theater with Davy. I did a little acting but I really loved directing the plays. So I got a job with an independent film company, trying to get enough experience to go out on my own." Micky nervously twisted the ring on his left hand without even noticing.  
Mike pointed to Micky’s hands. "I see that’s not all you’ve been up to."  
Micky stopped twisting the ring, smiled at Mike and looked at his hands.  
"No, that’s not all. About two years ago, I got married and I have one-year-old son." He looked up at Mike. "His name is Michael. I know that’s my name too but he was named after you."  
Mike sat back on the couch. "Named after me? Is he here? Can I see him?"  
"He’s on the beach," Davy quickly said, jumping up from his place on the couch. "I’ll go get him."  
Davy rushed out the back door, hoping to catch Natalie before she could walk in and be surprised. He met her at the bottom of the steps.  
"Natalie, you’re not going to believe who’s here," Davy said, taking Michael from her arms as they both climbed the steps to the patio. "I answered the door a few minutes ago to find Mike on the other side."  
Natalie stared at Davy, sinking into the nearest deck chair. "Mike?" she whispered, covering her mouth with her shaking hand.  
"Stay here till I tell you to come in. He doesn’t know about you and Micky yet," Davy said and hurried back inside.  
"Here’s the little man," he announced as he came inside and rejoined the small group at the couch.  
Mike looked at the pudgy little boy in Davy’s arms. He definitely belonged to Micky. The boy had dark, curly hair, almond shaped brown eyes and the same smile. He was a miniature Micky.  
Mike chuckled. "Well, he’s certainly yours all right. Can I hold him?"  
"Sure," Micky shrugged.  
Davy handed Michael to Mike. Mike looked him over. He wished he could have been there to see how excited Micky was when he found out he was going to be a father.  
Natalie watched from the patio door. She had been told to stay there but she could no longer wait.  
"I see you have company," she said as she entered the room. Davy, Peter and Micky exchanged worried glances and Mike looked at her like he was seeing an angel.  
"Natalie," he said.  
"Mike." She walked in front of him and looked at him. "You’re looking good."  
"I’m a lot better than I was a few months ago." They hugged and Michael reached for her.  
"Mama," he said.  
There was complete silence as Natalie took the boy from Mike’s arms. Mike was confused.  
"I thought you said he was yours?" Mike said mainly to himself, trying to figure out this riddle.  
Micky just smiled lamely and shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what else to do.  
Suddenly everything clicked in Mike’s head. The boy did belong to Micky. He looked too much like him not to. He also belonged to Natalie; he had called her mama. That could only mean one thing and it made him feel like he had just had his heart ripped right out of his chest.  
"You and him?" he said, looking at Natalie and pointing to Micky.  
"Mike," Natalie started. "When we heard you’d been captured, we all four got a little closer. Micky and I discovered that we were meant to be together. I’m sorry to hurt you like that, but we really do love each other. You told me if anything ever happened to you to go ahead with my life. We thought you were gone for good, Mike."  
Mike’s brain was spinning with thoughts. How could they do that to him? She was his girlfriend. He was his best friend.  
"So you thought that since I was gone, you’d just move in on my girl, huh?" Mike spat at Micky.  
"No, Mike. That’s not it at all. We didn’t mean for this to happen, it just did. We never meant to hurt you." Micky knew that it would take time for Mike to accept what had happened, but he was sure Mike would accept it eventually.  
"I thought we were friends." The words cut Micky like a knife. He had never been on the receiving end of Mike’s hurt like that and it stung.  
"We were. We are friends, Mike."  
Mike looked at Micky and finally spoke again. "No, I don’t think we are."  
He turned to go and saw Peter and Davy quietly standing beside the couch.  
"And you two. How could you let them do it?"  
Neither of them knew what to say and lowered their heads. Mike shook his head at them and walked to the door. He stopped and turned back to them, holding the door open.  
"It was nice to come back home and see you all. I hope you have a nice life," he said, especially to Micky. His eyes bored into Micky’s and Micky could see the hurt behind them. With that, Mike stepped outside and slammed the door shut behind him.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
1997  
"He was so hurt by what had happened that he never saw them again," Tess said.  
"That was twenty-seven years ago. He hasn’t seen or talked to any of them since then?" Monica couldn’t believe what she was hearing.  
"Yes, baby. But it’s not because Micky, Natalie, Davy and Peter didn’t try. They’ve tried many times over the years to contact him, but to no avail. He has not wanted anything to do with them."  
"That’s a shame," Andrew said. "But they are all going to need each other very soon."  
*Chapter Three*  
October 1997  
Mike sat at his desk looking over his mail. Nothing important. He reached for the remote and turned the television on.  
"And in movie news," the young girl from Entertainment News was saying. "The premiere of the new movie directed by Micky Dolenz is slated for November first. The movie promises to be a hit with big name stars, Julia Roberts and Brad Pitt. The story is one of survival after a plane crash in the mountains. We recently talked with Dolenz about the film."  
Mike watched as the girl talked to Micky, then he pushed the power button on the remote. He couldn’t handle watching that any longer. Although it had been almost thirty years since their falling out, it still hurt. He had drifted around California for a few years then ended up back home in Texas. Within five years, he owned a nightclub in Dallas and in another five years, he had a chain of clubs throughout southern Texas.  
While his business life had gone well, his personal life was another story. He had married about fifteen years ago, but it had only lasted three years. They were never happy together and his wife could only stand it so long. The marriage did produce a child, a son who was almost fourteen. He and his mother lived in San Antonio, which meant Mike didn’t get to see him as often as he would like.  
Finally, he brought himself back to the present, remembering he had a meeting in about thirty minutes. He shook his head and put all thoughts of the past out of his head, then went off to his meeting.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
November 1  
Micky stood in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom checking his tux for the fifth time. The premiere of his first big movie was in less than an hour and he was understandably nervous, which, he thought, was probably the reason for the annoying headache he had at the moment.  
"You look handsome."  
He looked up into the mirror and saw Natalie smiling at him. She slipped her arms around his waist from behind him.  
"And you look beautiful," he said smiling back. She wore a full-length simple black slip dress which showed off her still slim figure.  
He turned around to give her a hug and held her in his arms.  
"Are you feeling all right?" she asked, sensing he was not.  
"Just a bit nervous, that’s all. Gave me a headache. I took some aspirin a little while ago."  
He had been having headaches lately and Natalie was concerned. Micky, on the other hand, just shrugged them off and blamed it on the new movie, but she was not convinced. The only time he had ever had headaches in the entire time she had known him was when he was sick. He also had been acting differently. Usually he was a kind, considerate man but in the last few weeks, he had become grumpy and quick-tempered.  
"Okay." She kissed his cheek and picked up her bag from the bed. "We’d better go. The car will be here soon."  
Micky followed her out the bedroom door. "Did you hear from Davy and Peter?"  
"Yes, they will be there. They both said they wouldn’t miss it for the world."  
Micky smiled as they walked down the stairs. He had the best friends in those two. He couldn’t have asked for any better. A twinge of sadness and anger swept across him as he thought about the other friend he wished was there. Mike had been his best friend and he missed him but he was also angry at the fact that Mike seemed to want nothing to do with any of them. They had tried numerous times to contact him and try to get him to talk but he never took them up on any offer.  
A car horn sounded and brought Micky out of his thoughts. He reached for Natalie’s hand, smiling at her as she placed her small hand in his. As she did, a feeling of worry tugged at the back of her heart. She smiled back and they went out to the limo.  
They arrived at the theater and made their way through the maze of photographers and reporters to finally sit down in their seats. Micky dropped down and rested his elbow on the armrest, holding his head in his hand.  
Natalie lightly touched his arm and softly asked, "Honey, are you all right?"  
He covered her hand with his free one, not raising his head. "My head hurts very bad. It’s never hurt quite like this before."  
He finally lifted his head and looked at her with watery eyes. She could see the pain he felt and the feeling of worry came back tenfold.  
"I’m going to the restroom, see if splashing some water on my face will help. I’ll be right back," he said as he stood shakily and walked up the aisle toward the lobby. Natalie watched as he held onto the seats as he went. She had never seen him like this before and she was scared.  
"Hi, Nat." She heard a familiar voice from her other side and turned to see Peter and his girlfriend, Ruthie, standing there smiling at her.  
"Hi, Peter, Ruthie," Natalie said, smiling.  
"Where’s Micky?" Peter asked.  
"He went to the restroom. He wasn’t feeling well and I’m worried about him. He’s been having bad headaches lately and he has one now. Would you go check on him, please?" she asked Peter.  
He could see by the look on her face that she was very worried about Micky.  
"Of course, I’ll check on him. I’ll be right back." Peter patted Natalie’s shoulder and made his way to the lobby. Looking toward the restroom, he could see Micky just going inside. When he got there, Micky was leaning against the sink.  
"Micky, are you okay?" Peter asked as he stepped beside him.  
"Peter," Micky whispered, reaching out to hold Peter’s arm. Micky looked up into Peter’s eyes and the pain Peter saw there was overwhelming. "I can’t stand this pain anymore." He started to falter and Peter reached out for him.  
"Mick, you’d better sit down," Peter said but Micky did not hear. As Peter was talking, Micky fell forward into Peter.  
"Micky," Peter said as he awkwardly got him to the floor. He checked for a pulse, relieved when he found one. The door opened and a young man entered the room.  
"Call an ambulance," Peter yelled, startling the man momentarily, then he rushed out of the room.  
*Chapter Four*  
"Mike, there is someone here to see you."  
Mike looked up at his secretary, Jill, as she stood in the open door of his office.  
"He says it’s urgent that he speak with you," she said.  
"Who is it?"  
"He won’t tell me, but he says he must talk with you."  
"I won’t talk with him if he’s not willing to tell me who he is. The last thing I need is some stranger in here trying to sell me something." In his business, he was always getting solicitors and he hated it when they showed up. He usually had Jill get rid of them.  
"I was afraid you might feel that way," a somewhat familiar voice said and then the owner of the voice stepped around Jill into the doorway.  
"Peter?" Mike asked, wide-eyed with surprise as somewhere deep inside a bit of the ice around his heart melted. He looked at Peter, happy to see that innocent smile that it seemed Peter had not lost over the years.  
"Mike, will you talk to me? I have some news I think you should hear."  
Mike thought about it for a moment. Peter had come all the way from California to see him and he should hear what it was Peter had to say.  
"Okay." Mike looked to his secretary. "It’s okay, Jill. Hold my calls. I don’t want to be disturbed."  
Peter came in and sat in the chair across the desk as Jill left, shutting the door behind her.  
"Looks like you’ve done all right," Peter said as he looked around the room.  
"Yeah, I get the bills paid. What is your news?"  
Peter chuckled. No beating around the bush here, he thought.  
"I thought it was only right to let you know what happened. Micky is in the hospital. He passed out at the premiere of his movie and he’s waiting on tests. The doctor thinks he may have a brain tumor." Peter watched Mike digest the information.  
Mike sat silent and unmoving, millions of thoughts running through his head. Part of him wanted to tell Peter that everything would be okay, Micky couldn’t have a tumor. Another part of him wanted to rush to California right that instant to tell Micky he would be just fine. But the part that took over was the part that didn’t want to deal with it. The news hit him hard but he wouldn’t, couldn’t, show it.  
"What do you want me to do?" he asked, looking at Peter with an unreadable expression.  
Peter wasn’t surprised by Mike’s reaction. After all the times they had tried to get Mike to see them or talk to them, he had expected this, and even so, it made him angry.  
"I just thought you should know; thought you would want to know. I guess I was hoping that after almost thirty years some of that wall you built around yourself would have started crumbling, but I guess I was wrong."  
Peter stood up and walked to the door, Mike watching him go. When Peter turned the knob, he stopped and looked back at Mike.  
"I’ll tell you one thing, Mike. Time is short and if there is anything on your heart, the time is now to tell him." Peter fought to keep the tears in his eyes from spilling over his cheeks. "To tell you the truth, the doctors are not holding out much hope that the tumor will be benign. I’ve never seen him in this much pain and I don’t know how much longer he can hold out."  
He watched Mike for a moment longer, then turned and walked out the door.  
Mike watched Peter walk out of his office while the words he had said echoed through his head. *Time is short; this much pain; how much longer he can hold out*. He swallowed hard as he stared at the door and wrestled with his emotions, deciding what to do next.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
"Did you talk to him?" Davy asked as Peter came into the hospital waiting room.  
"Yeah, I talked to him," Peter sighed as he dropped into a chair. "He’s still the same stubborn fool he’s always been."  
Davy sat in the chair beside Peter’s and patted him on the back. "Well, at least he knows what’s going on. The rest is up to him."  
Peter nodded quietly. "How is he?" he asked about Micky.  
"Sleeping, thank God. He’s awfully grumpy. No one can stand to be around him. Finally, the painkillers kicked in and put him to sleep." Davy smiled and sit back in his chair. "It’s hard on Natalie. She’s with him now. Michael went to the cafeteria to get some food. I’ll tell you, from where I sit, it doesn’t look good."  
Peter nodded his head. "I know. Maybe Mike will come to his senses and show up; even if it is to say goodbye."  
*Chapter Five*  
Two days after Peter’s visit, Mike found himself sitting in a bar a few blocks from the hospital Micky was in. As he drank his scotch, he wondered what he was doing there. He knew he needed to see Micky but he also knew it would be one of the hardest things he ever did.  
"Can I get you another drink?" the bartender, who just happened to be Tess, asked.  
Mike nodded his answer and Tess refreshed his drink.  
"What brings you here? I’ve never seen you in here before."  
"I’m from Texas. I came to see a friend in the hospital," Mike answered sitting his glass down in front of him. "I haven’t seen him for a long time and I’m having second thoughts about going."  
"Second thoughts!" Tess exclaimed. "Why on earth would you have second thoughts about seeing a friend in the hospital?"  
"Lots of things happened in the past. It’s a long story."  
"Well, I’m not going anywhere and I’d say you need to talk," Tess said.  
Mike looked at the woman across the bar from him. She looked nice enough and he really did need to talk to someone. He told her the whole story from the day he got the draft notice to the day Peter showed up in his office.  
"And here I am." Mike took another swallow of his drink.  
"Well, hon. If I were you, I’d get over to that hospital and make amends with my friend. Life is way too short to hold a grudge." Tess stood quietly watching Mike, hoping he would go soon.  
He thought about her words; life is way too short to hold a grudge. Then Peter’s words echoed in his head; time is short. He had to go.  
Standing, he fished in his pocket for the money to pay for his drink.  
"Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house," Tess smiled, happy that at least part of her work was done.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
"Good afternoon, Mr. Dolenz," Andrew, who was now an orderly, said as he came into the hospital room that had been Micky’s home for the last few days.  
Micky scowled at the young man. "Yeah, what’s good about it?"  
Andrew smiled. "Well, the sun is shining, the birds are singing and you are awake." He came around to Micky’s bed table and took the water pitcher. "You haven’t been awake for quite some time."  
"Well, I wish I wasn’t right now. What are you doing here?"  
Andrew replaced the pitcher with a full one from his cart. "I’m just making sure you have everything you need and are comfortable."  
This guy is just too cheerful, Micky thought as he watched Andrew. "How long are you going to be in here?"  
"Almost done," Andrew smiled. What a friendly guy, Andrew thought. He had to keep reminding himself that this man was not himself right now since the tumor was affecting certain areas of his brain.  
"Mr. Dolenz, I need to change the sheets on your bed now," Andrew said, smiling as he approached Micky’s bed.  
"These sheets are fine," Micky grumped. He was not going to stand for this young man disturbing him.  
"I have my orders, sir. It will only take a minute."  
Andrew had to change the sheets with Micky still in the bed since he was hooked to too many tubes to be moved and Micky was making sure Andrew earned his paycheck. Micky refused to cooperate with Andrew and finally after much struggling, the sheets were changed.  
Andrew looked at Micky as he sat on the bed, arms crossed on his chest, a small smirk on his face.  
"Well, that job’s done," Andrew said as cheerfully as possible. "I‘ll be back later to see if you need anything else."  
"Humph. I can hardly wait," Micky grumbled, watching Andrew leave the room.  
******************************************************************************************  
*Chapter Six*  
"Mrs. Dolenz, I’d like to talk to you and your husband for a moment," Dr. Green said as he approached Natalie in the hospital hallway.  
Natalie’s breath caught in her throat. She knew that meant he had the test results back and she was scared to know what they were.  
"Okay," she answered. They both stepped into Micky’s room. Michael was already there, sitting in the chair beside Micky’s bed. He stood and offered his chair to Natalie.  
"Here, Mom. Sit down."  
"Thanks," she said as she came around the bed and sat in the chair.  
"I assume since everyone is here, you have my test results," Micky said to the doctor.  
"Yes, Mr. Dolenz. According to the tests, you have glioblastomas, or GBM. It is one of the most difficult types of cancer to treat because of the different cells it affects. We will need to do surgery and then you will need to undergo radiation therapy. It may also be necessary to do chemotherapy. I’ll schedule surgery as soon as possible. I’m hopeful we can get this out of your system. We caught it early so that gives us an upper hand." Dr. Green said, trying to be as optimistic as he could.  
Micky sat quietly pondering what he had just been told. He had cancer; brain cancer. He looked at Natalie as she asked the doctor a question. She was trying her best to be strong, but Micky could see the tears in her eyes. Then he looked at his son, Michael. He was no longer a boy, but a grown man. God, where had the years gone? Michael sensed Micky looking at him and turned. They caught each others gaze and Michael smiled at his father with a very familiar smile, one that Micky saw in the mirror all the time. At the moment, all Micky wanted to do was go home and play catch in the back yard, go to a baseball game, do all the things they had done when he was little.  
He looked back at Natalie. She was still beautiful in his eyes. They had been so happy over the years. That’s not to say they hadn’t had their bad times, but the good certainly outweighed the bad. They had tried so hard to have more children, but it just wasn’t meant to be. Natalie had cried many times over that but she accepted it and the two of them had made plans for their future, just the two of them. And now she was facing the prospect of losing him.  
"Well, I’ll leave you now, but if you need anything, please let me know." Doctor Green stood up from where he had been sitting and went to the door. "I’ll let you know when the surgery will be." He then turned and left.  
Natalie looked at Micky, taking his hand in hers. "Well, you’ll have surgery and then everything will be fine." She was really trying to convince herself of that. Deep down she didn’t believe it one bit.  
"Yeah," he said quietly, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb.  
*Chapter Seven*  
Mike made his way down the hall and avoided being seen by Davy, Peter, and Natalie, who were trying to sleep in the waiting room. Mike remembered times when they had done the same for each other a long time ago. He shook his head at the memories, too many memories for his liking. He was thankful they didn’t see him. Confronting Micky alone would be enough without having to answer to the three of them also.  
Andrew and Monica were working at the nurses station when Mike came out of the elevator. Andrew nudged her and nodded his head toward Mike as he was walked down the hall, looking at each name posted beside each door. Monica gave Andrew a hopeful look as Mike found Micky’s room, took a deep breath and entered the door to confront his past; his one time best friend.  
Mike walked into the dimly lit room, and stood just inside the doorway, looking at Micky lying in the bed. He was pale and looked to be asleep. Taking a deep breath, Mike made his way to the bed.  
Having woken up when the door was opened, Micky turned his head to look at his visitor, then turned back to the wall. He was accustomed to having visitors at all hours of the day and night and this visitor had not announced who he was.  
"What do you want?" he asked grumpily, assuming Mike was another of the endless stream of doctors, nurses and orderlies that came and went at all hours of the day and night. "I’ve had my pills, I’ve had my dinner and I’ve had enough needles stuck in me to take down a horse. If you are here for any of that, just leave me alone. I’ve had enough for today."  
Mike took a deep breath, swallowed hard and spoke softly. "Micky."  
When Micky heard Mike’s voice, he turned his head toward him. He looked closely to make sure what he had heard was real. He would know that voice anywhere, even after so many years.  
"Mike?" That couldn’t be Mike. Mike had left and never even pretended like he wanted anything to do with him, Davy or Peter; not even Natalie. He sat up in the bed and looked closer at the man standing just inside the door.  
"Yeah, it’s me." Mike came a bit closer and Micky could see his face. He didn’t look like the Mike he had known but the eyes were the same.  
Suddenly, all the anger he had felt through the years came to the surface and he sat up in the bed.  
"So, you came to see me die? I suppose this is what you’ve been waiting for the last thirty years, huh? Just couldn’t wait till I was out of the way and then you could come in and pick up the pieces; comfort Natalie when I’m gone."  
Mike was taken aback by the hateful words that Micky said. All he could do was stand there, stunned.  
"I..I.." Mike stuttered.  
"Save it Nesmith." Micky spat. "You said your peace thirty years ago when you walked out the door on all of us; the group, your friends." Micky paused, then in a voice thick with emotion, added, "The ones that cared about you."  
The words hit Mike like a punch in the face. He looked down at the floor, afraid to look at Micky.  
"Have you seen Natalie?" Micky asked. "I imagine you have had a passing thought or two about her since leaving."  
"I came to see you, not her." Mike answered.  
"Oh, hell, Mike. Don’t lie to me. She was your girlfriend. I suppose the reason you are here now is because I’ll soon be out of the picture. I guess I should have tried dying sooner," Micky said sarcastically.  
"Mick, I, I don’t want Natalie," Mike had no idea what to say to Micky’s ranting.  
That just fueled Micky more. "Oh, now she’s not good enough for you. Have I tainted her? Does it turn your stomach to think I’ve been with her?"  
"I came to talk to you, but if you don’t want to talk..." Mike turned to leave, wanting to get out as soon as possible.  
"Yeah, right. Do what you do best, leave. You bastard. For three years we worried about you every day. The four of us asked each other everyday how you were, where you were. You came back and didn’t wait for an explanation. You just assumed. You walked out that door too. I never forgave you for treating us with such hatred. Things just happen. But no... your Texan pride saw that Natalie and I betrayed you."  
Micky’s head started to fill with pain but he kept up his assault. "If you came here to clear your conscience, I hate to disappoint you."  
Mike was at a loss for words. He thought that maybe Micky would listen to him; that he would let him tell him the story of how he survived his time in the POW camp. Yet, now, Micky was letting it be known how he felt about him. Maybe he did deserve the words. But he wanted to make it right he just didn’t know how.  
"Micky, if only you would listen..." Mike tried once more.  
"Get out. Get your ass out of here. I don’t need you."  
He looked around the side table to throw something but everything was plastic or boxes.  
"Damn hospitals, can’t break anything even if you want to."  
He picked up the pitcher and hurled it across the room, missing Mike by a few inches. Micky grabbed his hurting head. With a deep breath, he voiced in quieter tone. "Just get out Mike. I don’t need you. I’ve made it this far. I’m dying and no one can do anything about it."  
"Maybe it was a mistake coming here," Mike said as he started for the door.  
Micky chuckled. "That’s right, you damn chicken. Run, just like you did then. I don’t need you. I’ve gotten through the last thirty years without you and I’ll do just fine without you now."  
Mike stood at the door, facing away from Micky. Those words hurt more than Micky could have imagined.  
"GET OUT!" Micky shouted, then lowered his head, cradling it in his hands. The pain was intense but he had said what he needed to say. He tried in vain to keep his tears at bay.  
Mike turned around and looked at Micky hurting. He wanted to walk to him and touch him, but he knew better. He stepped back to the door and opened it, leaving the room and entering the quiet hallway. He was surprised that no one there to meet him.

Mike stood outside the door, leaning on the wall beside it. He shouldn’t have come, he thought. It just upset Micky for him to be there. Looking up, he saw a man wearing medical scrubs, a stethoscope hanging from his neck, approaching him. They smiled at each other and as the man started to go into Micky’s room, Mike looked at him again.  
"Wait."  
The man stopped. "Yes."  
"Can you tell me something? Is he all right?" Mike asked pointing in the direction of Micky’s room.  
"I’m really not supposed to talk about the patients, sir."  
"I understand," Mike said and looked down at the floor. The man watched Mike for a moment and then decided it wouldn’t hurt to tell Mike what he knew.  
"I don’t really know everything, just what I’ve heard but he has cancer and he’s scheduled for surgery tomorrow morning."  
Mike closed his eyes tight wishing it would make everything go back to the way it was. "Thanks."  
The man nodded and went into Micky’s room.  
Mike pulled himself up and away from the wall, feeling defeated. He needed another drink so he headed back to the bar.  
Moving down the hall, he made it past the waiting room once more and to the elevator. That was not an experience he wanted to live again.  
Andrew watched Mike’s retreat and shook his head.  
"Round one, a no go," he said to Monica.  
Monica watched as Mike stepped into the elevator.  
"Tess will talk him into a round two," she said confidently.  
*Chapter Eight*  
"You again?" Tess said as she sat a drink in front of Mike at the bar. "That certainly didn’t take very long considering you hadn’t seen him for thirty years."  
He picked up the drink and downed half of it at once. "Yeah, well. Let’s just say he was not happy to see me."  
"What happened?"  
"He chewed me out good and I left," Mike explained, shrugging his shoulders as if he didn’t care.  
"You left! A man you haven’t seen in thirty years, who was your best friend, who is lying in that hospital fighting for his life and you just left. I ought to come around this bar and kick your butt clear back to Texas. I can’t believe you would just leave," Tess said.  
Great, Mike thought. Not only did I get a cussing from Micky but I’m getting one from some lady I don’t even know.  
"You weren’t there. He said some very nasty things and then threw a pitcher of water at me. I didn’t have to stay and take that."  
"And why not? You are the one that walked out on him and your other friends, right? They tried to bring you back but you wanted no part of it, right? Doesn’t he have a right to be a little ticked off at you? I’m surprised it was only a pitcher he threw at you. If it were me, I probably would have thrown a pitcher and a whole set of glasses at you." Tess was hot under the collar now. This was not in the plan.  
Mike sat and drank the last bit of liquid from his glass, thinking about what she had said. He hadn’t thought about the fact that Micky had a right to be upset at him. The things that had happened in the past were his fault.  
"Okay, so, what do I do now? You seem to know everything." Mike looked up into her determined face.  
"What do you mean, what do you do now? I’ll tell you what you do now, you march yourself right back to that hospital and you talk to him. You owe him the courtesy of listening to him. And then he will need you to lean on. He’s going through something right now that no one should go through without their friends. Deep down he still loves you and I know you still love him." Tess leaned across the bar and put her hand on top of Mike’s and softened her voice. "Don’t wait till you have to tell a gravestone how you felt about him."  
Mike shuddered at the thought. Tess was right; he needed to go back. He had to go listen to whatever Micky needed to say to him and then he had to tell Micky what he had gone to say.  
"You’re right," he said taking Tess’s hand in his and giving it a squeeze. "Thanks."  
"That’s what I’m here for." Tess looked down at their hands and noticed the scar on Mike’s right hand. She knew where it had come from and an idea came to her.  
"Where’d that nasty scar come from?" she asked, watching for the reaction she was hoping for.  
Mike pulled his hand away from hers and rubbed it with his other hand. He didn’t like to think about where it had come from.  
"Just from the past; the very distant past." Mike answered as he looked at the scar.  
Tess could see the change in his face as the memories started to flood his mind and smiled inwardly as she realized her plan had worked.  
"Well, I’ll be going now," Mike said as he stood and turned to leave. He looked at Tess and smiled. "Thanks again."  
"Any time," Tess answered as she watched him exit the room.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
Memories invaded Mike’s mind as he steered his rented car down the street toward the hospital. The scar on his hand was a constant reminder of a life he would rather forget. He had spent two years in the hellhole called Vietnam in a hot, smelly, bug infested prison camp. His mind wandered back in time, just as Tess had intended.  
1969  
Mike shivered as he lay on the hard floor of the cell that had been home for some time. It was a small cinderblock room, crudely and quickly put together for the prisoners the Vietnamese soldiers had captured. Above his head on the wall was a year’s worth of marks where Mike and his cellmates had been counting off the days, hoping for a miracle to get them out of this horrible place. Each time the sun came up over the eastern sky, they made another mark on the wall with a stone they had picked up from the ground.  
Mike wrapped his arms around himself trying to find warmth somewhere. He wanted to die and had prayed that death would come and take him so he would not have to endure this hell on earth any longer. He had just been put through the same routine he had gone through everyday for the past few months. The soldiers would come get him and take him to another block building. They would go through their barrage of questions to which he would only answer his name, rank and serial number. When he would not answer to their liking, Mike would be beat and then sent back to his cell. Every prisoner went through this same routine every day.  
This time however, he had gotten more beating than he ever had. They had beaten him with their rifles and taken turns throwing him against the wall. Somehow in all that, they had managed to smash his hand. He thought it had happened when he was thrown against the wall and one soldier had swung his rifle at him and smashed his hand between the wall and the rifle. He was in terrible pain and he held his hand to his chest as if that would alleviate it somehow.  
Mike finally sat up and leaned his back against the wall. Wiping the sweat from his face with his good hand, he turned to the door when it opened. A young man in an American Army uniform was shoved inside. They looked at each other then the young man sat down beside Mike on the ground.  
"Your hand looks pretty bad. Can I look at it?" the young man asked. "I’m a medic. Maybe I can help."  
Mike hesitated for a moment then carefully moved his injured hand from its position at his chest. The young man gently took Mike’s hand and looked it over.  
"My name is Andrew," the man said as he checked Mike over. "You have a fever and it looks as if an infection has set in your injury. Your body will have to fight it on it‘s own. There‘s not much around here to treat it with." Andrew smiled at Mike as he replaced Mike’s hand near his chest.  
"Thanks," Mike said through chattering teeth. Even though it was hot, Mike was freezing from his fever.  
Andrew removed his jacket and covered Mike with it. "This will help keep you warm."  
"Why are you here?" Mike asked. "Your clothes are clean and you don’t look like you’ve seen any combat."  
Andrew smiled. "I’m here to help you, Michael."  
"How did you know my name?" Mike was sure he was delirious.  
"I was sent here just for you," Andrew said as he began to glow as if a spotlight was shining on him. "I’m an angel."  
Mike couldn’t believe his eyes. He felt such a calm feeling wash over him; a feeling he hadn’t felt since being sent to this place.  
"I am an answer to your prayer," Andrew continued. "I have come to tell you it’s not your time to go yet. You have too much left to do on earth. There are people at home who love you and want to see you again. You have to stay strong for them."  
Mike lowered his head as his tears came.  
"Micky, Natalie, Peter and Davy," he whispered. "My best friends in the world. They probably think I’m dead by now." Mike looked up at Andrew. "What’s the point in staying alive."  
Andrew put his hand on Mike’s shoulder.  
"Because you have so much to offer this world."  
Mike let the tears flow then and held his face in his good hand.  
"I can’t take much more of this. I just want to die. That’s the only way I’ll get out."  
"No," Andrew said. "Soon you will be going home. Just keep your eye on the prize; home with your friends. Keep them in your thoughts. It will help you get through your days. And remember-God loves you and will take care of you."  
Mike wiped the tears from his eyes. He didn’t want to be caught crying when his cell mates came back from whatever torture their captors had for them today.  
"Everything will work out soon. Don’t forget your friends."  
"My friends," Mike repeated with a slight smile. He looked down at his hand in his lap. "I would give anything to hear a stupid joke from Micky or a stupid question from Peter. I’d even love to hear Davy hit on yet another girl." He chuckled and then thought about Natalie.  
They had never slept together during the short time they had been together; they had not felt it was the right time. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. Who wouldn’t want to? She was a beautiful person, not only outside but inside also. He and Natalie agreed that they would not rush into an intimate relationship until they felt it was right.  
"I’d love to see Natalie again and give her a big hug and kiss," Mike said, smiling as he looked up.  
"Andrew?" The young man was gone. Mike leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, his thoughts wandering back to a simpler time along the beach in Malibu.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
Mike steered the car into a parking space on the hospital parking lot and turned the motor off. Sitting back in his seat, he remembered how he had been in the camp about three more months after Andrew’s visit. He made it through those three months and the six months he spent in a Veterans hospital afterward by relying on his memories and the promise of seeing his friends again. He had been hurt by what had happened while he was gone, but in the years that followed, he had come to realize that Micky and Natalie really were meant for each other. He and Natalie never would have made it as a serious couple. But his stubborn pride would never allow him to go back and make up for his horrible reaction.  
Mike closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the headrest, hitting the steering wheel with his open palm. How could he have been so stupid? His best friend was now in the hospital, possibly dying of cancer, and he had run out on him. Micky had been the reason Mike had been able to come home from Vietnam in one piece. Sure Mike had thought of the others too, but Micky was the one that Mike missed most. And he had missed him over the years since he came home.  
He opened his eyes and looked out the side window of the car. The sun was just setting behind the buildings, casting a red glow on everything in sight. God, please give me the strength to go in there and face him, Mike thought. He would need it.  
*Chapter Nine*  
Micky lay in his bed, watching some rerun of an old TV show when a nurse he hadn’t seen before walked in the door.  
"Good evening, Mr. Dolenz," she said in a cheerful, Irish accented voice. "I see you are scheduled for surgery tomorrow morning." She came around to his bedside and checked his IV. "By the way, my name is Monica."  
Micky just glared at her. When she told him he was scheduled for surgery, he thought he might throw up. He had never been so scared in his life, but he wasn’t going to let her know it. Instead he just turned back to the TV.  
Monica took her stethoscope from around her neck. "I need to check your blood pressure," she said, taking his arm and slipping the cuff on to his upper arm.  
"I saw you had a visitor earlier." Monica tried to make small talk and smiled at him.  
"Yeah, I got rid of him, though," Micky answered with a small bit of satisfaction.  
"Why would you want to get rid of him?"  
Micky looked at Monica and for some reason decided to tell her the whole story about what had happened. He told her about the band and their dream of success, then Mike had gotten the letter from the Army. Micky told her about Mike being a POW and how they had waited for so long for some word about where he was or if he was even alive. Then he told her about falling in love with Natalie and getting married.  
Monica noticed when he talked about Natalie, his face lit up like she had not seen since entering his room.  
"And then Mike showed up after two and a half years. We had all gone on with our lives. We thought he was gone, but we never forgot him. When he found out about Natalie and me, he left and we could never get him to come back and talk to us; any of us." Micky stopped for a second and then went on.  
"He doesn’t have the right to come back now and try to make up for what he did." Micky nearly spat the words out at Monica. "He just jumped to conclusions and his damned Texas pride guided him right out of our lives."  
"But, if something happens to you, don’t you think he should be able to have some closure?" Monica asked as gently as she could. "And I don’t really think you hate him."  
Micky looked at her like she was from another planet. "Are you kidding? Didn’t you listen to me?" She had hit a nerve. He did still hold Mike in a special place in his heart, but there was no way he would let her see that.  
"Yes, I listened all right. I know how you feel about him," Monica said softly. A light came from above and surrounded Monica in a golden ray.  
Micky’s eyes widened and he could hardly talk.  
"Who are you?"  
"I’m an angel sent to you from God. He has a message for you, Micky. He wants you to have love in your heart, not hate."  
"An angel? You’ve got to be kidding," Micky grumped. What kind of medication did they give me, he thought.  
"Yes, an angel. Mike came back to talk to you and you pushed him away at a time when he needed you as much as you need him." Monica smiled and waited for him to digest the information.  
Micky thought about that for a moment. What did she mean, he needed Mike? She was crazy. Yeah, that was it. This woman was crazy.  
"I don’t need him and I’m certain he doesn’t need me," Micky said with much less conviction than he had before. He hated to admit to himself that what she was saying was true.  
"You know that’s not true," Monica said gently. "You were once his best friend and now you are sick and unsure of your future. He cares for you deeply and it is just as frightening to him as it is to you. When he comes back, it’s very important that you listen to him."  
Micky looked up at her. "He’s coming back?" Deep inside, he was so happy to hear that. He didn’t want to go through this without him. Everything that he had gone through over the years without Mike had been easy compared to this.  
"Yes, Micky. He will be here soon. Please listen to him."  
"Listen to him? He would never listen to us when we tried to talk to him. Why should I listen to him?"  
Micky could feel the walls start to crumble in his heart as he thought about getting one more chance to make things right between himself and Mike. He would have the opportunity to say the things he had wanted to say for so long.  
"Yes, listen to him. He has something very important to tell you," Monica said as she smiled at him.  
"I can try, but I can’t guarantee that this thing in my head won’t make me blow up at him again." He then looked up at her. "Can you help me? Give me the strength to keep my emotions in check."  
"Of course. You will have the help and support you need."  
Micky nodded and softly said thank you.  
"Monica, if you are an angel, can you tell me if I am going to die soon?" Micky asked hoping she could ease his mind.  
Monica placed her hand on Micky’s shoulder and smiled.  
"I’m sorry, Micky, but no, I can’t tell you that. No one knows the answer to that except the Father."  
Micky nodded his head and lowered it. He felt such a calm feeling from her hand on his shoulder that he didn’t want her to leave. She surely was an angel.  
"Just remember to listen to what Mike has to say. It’s important to the both of you. Actually, to the five of you. There has to be healing before there can be friendship again."  
"Okay," Micky said softly, wiping away the tears that had formed in his eyes. He didn’t want to be so grumpy anymore. He still loved Mike like a brother and, he realized, it had taken a lot of courage for Mike to come see him after so long. He did owe it to him to listen. There must be something Mike wanted to say.  
"Knock, knock," Natalie said as she poked her head in the door. "Are you up for some company?"  
Micky looked around the room but Monica had vanished.  
"Yes, more ready than you know." Micky smiled at Natalie, the love of his life.  
She came to his bedside and Micky hugged her tighter than he had in a long time. Natalie was surprised, but returned the hug gladly. It had been too long since he had felt compelled to share his feelings and she wasn’t going to put a damper on it.  
"Are you all right?" she asked as he let go of her.  
"Better than I’ve been in a long time."  
Natalie wasn’t sure what to do, whether to call the doctor to find out what had gotten into him or just enjoy it while it lasted.  
"Davy and Peter would like to see you before visiting hours are over. Is that okay with you?"  
"You bet. Send them in," he answered.  
He watched as Natalie went to the door and told them to come in. They both came in cautiously as Natalie left and Davy went to a chair and Peter sat on the wide window sill.  
"How are you feeling this evening, Micky?" Davy asked.  
"Better than I have in a long time. I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole lately. I knew a long time ago something was wrong with me but I was too afraid to go to a doctor. I was afraid he’d tell me something I didn’t want to hear. You two are wonderful friends for sticking with me even when I acted so horrible."  
Davy and Peter didn’t know what to do or say.  
Peter finally spoke. "Micky, we love you like a brother. You don’t run out on a brother when he is going through a crisis."  
"That’s right," Davy added. "We knew that wasn’t the real you. We were just waiting for you to get better and get back to the same Micky we’ve always known and loved."  
Micky looked at them both, thinking back on times when they had been there for him in different ways. He had gone to them when he and Natalie were having marital problems, when Michael was sick with pneumonia and when Natalie had been hurt in a car accident. They were always there for him.  
"What did I ever do to deserve such good friends?"  
Peter laughed. "Not one damn thing."  
They all laughed and Micky leaned back against the headboard of the bed. Peter reached down to pick up the guitar that was propped against the wall next to him and started strumming it. Natalie had brought it to the hospital to try to ease Micky’s nerves. Playing always seemed to make him relax. Peter played a song that was familiar to them and they all just enjoyed listening for a while.  
*Chapter Ten*  
Mike stepped off the elevator once again and Andrew tapped Monica on the shoulder.  
"Tess did it. He’s back."  
Monica looked up from the chart she was reading and smiled. "I knew she would and Micky is ready to hear what Mike has to say."  
Mike looked into the waiting room as he passed by and saw Natalie sitting by herself, watching out the window. He stopped, then entered the room quietly.  
"Natalie," he said.  
She turned from the window and just stared for a moment.  
"Mike?" she finally whispered. She couldn’t be seeing him. She must be dreaming. He wouldn’t be here now after all this time.  
"Yeah, it’s me. I came to see Micky earlier and he let me have it with both barrels then I turned tail and ran, but I met a very wise woman and she talked me into coming back. You think Mick would talk to me now?" Mike asked carefully.  
Natalie walked to stand in front of him, looking at his face as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.  
"If you had asked me two hours ago, I would have said no, he wouldn’t. But, something changed. He is a different person, more like his old self right now. I’m not sure what it was that happened, but I’m glad it did. I think maybe he’s even waiting for you."  
Natalie took him by the arm and walked with him to Micky’s room. They stopped just before opening the door.  
"Here’s his room. You go on in," Natalie said.  
"I want you there, too. Where are Peter and Davy?" Mike asked.  
"They’re in here," she answered pointing to the door.  
"Good. I need them here, too." He cleared his throat, looked at Natalie and asked, "Ready?"  
Natalie nodded and Mike opened the door, letting her go in first.  
Mike could hear the soft music of the guitar that Peter was playing and it brought comfort to him. It had been so long since he had heard Peter play and he had missed it.  
"Hello," Natalie said as she came inside the door.  
Micky looked up smiling at her, then saw Mike standing behind her. Peter stopped playing and looked up to see Mike. Thank you, he thought. He had been hoping since he came back from talking to Mike that he would show up.  
When Peter stopped playing, Davy noticed Mike, also. They smiled at each other then Mike turned back to Micky.  
"Mike, I was hoping you’d come back. I am sorry for the way I acted before. I should have listened to you."  
"No, Mick. I deserved it. Every word of it."  
Mike looked around the room, fidgeting nervously, realizing that everyone was watching him. "I need to talk to all of you."  
No one noticed as Michael stepped inside the door and quietly listened from the shadows.  
"Davy, Peter, I apologize for everything that happened when I came back from Vietnam. I never should have blamed you for what I thought happened between Micky and Natalie. I had no right to do that and then never try to listen to you when you tried so hard to explain over the years. I’m so sorry," Mike said as he looked at them.  
"When I was in the POW camp, the only way I made it through was by memories of all of you. Davy, I would always think of what girl you must be dating that day or what you and Micky would be fighting about." Mike and Davy both chuckled.  
"And Peter. I would think about how I wanted so badly to see that sweet, innocent smile and hear you ask a silly question just one more time. I would close my eyes and I could hear you playing the piano or the guitar and I vowed I’d get home to hear it for real again."  
Peter looked at Mike with teary eyes, not knowing what to say.  
"Natalie," Mike went on. "I would think of your sweet face and your sweet smile. You were once the love of my life. I loved you when I left for that hell hole and it was quite a shock when I came back and found out the two of you had married. I had no right to think that you would put your life on hold for me for three years. I meant what I said when I told you to go on."  
Mike looked at her. She was still just as pretty as she was then, maybe even more so.  
"But over the years I’ve watched the two of you and I am convinced that if you and I had stayed together, we wouldn’t have been happy. You were meant to be with Micky. I’m sorry that I treated you with such disrespect and wasn’t the friend I should have been. For that I hope you can forgive me."  
Natalie wiped at her teary eyes and came to stand in front of Mike. She nodded her head.  
"Yes, Mike. I forgave you a long time ago. I had to for my own sake. I knew you and I knew that it would take a very long time for you to come to terms with what happened. I’m just sorry it had to be under these circumstances." She reached up and touched his face with her trembling hand, then kissed his cheek.  
"Me, too," Mike said turning to Micky.  
"Even though I thought about all of you, the one that I thought of most was you, Mick," Mike said as he turned to Micky. When he saw that Micky’s eyes were filled with tears, Mike almost lost his composure.  
Clearing his throat, he went on. "Micky, you were my best friend in this whole world. I would have given my life for you and I suppose I almost did over there. You and I had a friendship that went beyond friends. We were brothers. I told you everything; my dreams, my fears. I would think about your sense of humor; wonder what new jokes you had learned and what little trick you were playing on Davy. I couldn’t wait to get home so you and I could write a song or two together or go for one of our motorcycle rides in the country just to get away and see what was on our minds. I‘ve missed that the most; the closeness we shared. You were the brother I never had but always wanted." Micky reached out to take Mike’s hand in his.  
"I feel the same way," Micky was barely able to say from the overwhelming emotions.  
Michael stood without a sound, fuming over hearing the excuses Mike was feeding them and seeing them all take it in. It was time to speak up.  
"This is bulls**t", he said.  
Everyone turned in shock at the outburst to see Michael as he came into the room and stood eye to eye with the man he was named after.  
"I have listened to Mom and Dad and Uncle Peter and Uncle Davy talk about how inspirational you were. Yet you never came back and never answered when they tried so desperately to contact you over the years. There were times they needed you with them; when Davy’s wife died, when Peter’s left him, when Mom and Dad almost got a divorce. Even the good times like my graduation from high school, when Davy’s daughter got married and when Peter’s daughter had a baby. They needed to share these things with you but you were not willing to swallow that damn pride of yours and do the right thing. It took Dad on death’s bed to get you here. "  
"Michael," Natalie said as she put her hand on his arm to stop his tirade. "That’s enough."  
"No, I’m not going to let him off that easy. I’ve heard it my whole life. You people put him on a pedestal yet he treated you all with such disrespect."  
He looked Mike in the eyes and said, "I have no respect for him."  
Mike looked at the young man in front of him. He looked so much like Micky and Natalie with Natalie’s eyes and Micky’s curly hair and build. They had raised him right. He loved them enough that he was standing up for them. He could only hope his own son would do the same for him.  
Mike calmly spoke. "You know, Michael. You’re right. I don’t deserve your respect or anyone else’s in this room."  
Mike walked around to the foot of Micky’s bed, looking at each member of the group.  
"This is going to sound like more excuses, but you need to know where I was coming from. Things were so messed up. I was hurting on so many levels. Not only had I just spent two years in a prison camp that wasn’t fit for a dog, but my mother, my only living relative, had died while I was gone. She was my rock, my steady force in this world and she was gone.  
"And on top of that, my best friend married my girlfriend and I blamed all my friends for it. Life had moved on and I had no control over any of it. I was scared, scared that I couldn’t handle all this change. I ran back to Texas. For four years I drank myself from Amarillo to Dallas, hiding from my life. I had nightmares from what had happened over there and I drank some more to deal with it. I was lonely, but I couldn’t come back. Not like that.  
"Then, slowly, I found myself and I fell into some deals that panned out and got myself cleaned up and sobered up. Became a respectable businessman, got married, had a son, got divorced. My business life was great but my personal life was a wreck. Everything I did seemed to be wrong and I could never shake the memories of what we had; our friendship. But I knew that you were better off without me. I’ve never been one to admit when I was wrong so I just avoided it, which meant I avoided all of you."  
Everyone was quiet as they took in what Mike had said. Finally, Michael spoke up again.  
"Is that supposed to make it all right? Are we supposed to just welcome you with open arms because it was too much for you to handle back then?"  
Mike looked up from the chair he had sat down in after his speech.  
"No, I don’t expect any of you to welcome me back at all. I just needed to explain, that’s all."  
Michael just shook his head in disgust.  
"Well, I for one will not."  
The room was quiet once more, then Micky broke the silence.  
"I will." He looked at Mike. "I had a very wise visitor just before you all came in. She showed me a thing or two. I have to forgive you or I won’t be able to be happy the rest of my life, how ever long that will be."  
Natalie came to his side and perched on the edge of the bed.  
"I found out I am scheduled for surgery tomorrow morning," Micky continued. "I have never been so scared in my life as I am right now. I need all of you to get through this. I’m glad you came back, Mike, and didn’t let me run you off for good."  
"I had a talk with a very wise person, also," Mike said, smiling as he thought of his conversation with Tess.  
"I can’t believe this," Michael said, throwing up his hands.  
"Let it go right now, please," Micky said to him. "For me."  
Michael looked at his father. He looked so tired, so scared. How could he hurt his father by not letting it go. He could be civil for the moment.  
"Okay. Just for you because I love you."  
Micky smiled at his son and sent up a silent ’thank you’ to the heavens.  
Mike turned to Peter and Davy.  
"You two have been awful quiet."  
"Just happy to see you talking with each other," Peter said gesturing toward Mike and Micky. "I let it go a long time ago."  
"Me, too. I wondered how long it would take before you came around again," Davy added.  
Mike laughed and looked at Micky. "It won’t be like it used to. I have to earn your trust again, but I’m willing to do what ever it takes."  
"Well, I’ve been thinking about something lately," Micky started as he looked at Mike. "Remember that song we recorded to send to your mom for her birthday one year? Her favorite song, I believe it was."  
Mike thought for a moment. "Yeah, I remember."  
"Do you remember it?"  
"Sure I do. I heard that so much growing up, I’ll never forget it. Why?" Mike asked.  
"I want you to sing it for me."  
Mike swallowed hard. He didn’t see that one coming. How would he get through that without breaking down? He took the guitar Peter handed him and started strumming the strings, finding the melody.  
"Okay, here it goes."  
He played the intro and then began singing.  
"My latest sun is sinking fast  
My race is nearly run  
My strongest trials now have passed  
My triumph has begun."  
Micky closed his eyes and listened closely to the voice he had missed for so long. It took him back to a time when they were singing together.  
"Oh, come Angel band."  
Micky opened his eyes when he heard Peter and Davy join in.  
"Come and around me stand  
Bear me away on your snow white wings  
To my immortal home."  
In the corner of the room, Tess, Monica, and Andrew stood, unseen by the others.  
"Oh, bear me away on your snow white wings  
To my immortal home."  
"What happens next?" Monica asked Tess.  
"He’ll come through the surgery tomorrow just fine. The doctor will remove all the cancer and the radiation and chemotherapy will be successful. He’s got a few years left here on earth," Tess explained.  
"Oh, bear my longing heart to him  
Who bled and died for me  
Whose blood now cleanses from all sin  
And brings me victory."  
"He’s not on my list," Andrew said with a smile. "At least not for this trip."  
Mike was again joined by Peter and Davy for the chorus.  
"Oh, come, Angel band  
Come and around me stand  
Oh, bear me away on your snow white wings  
To my immortal home."  
Micky sat with his eyes closed, mouthing the words to the song. He knew if he tried to sing, he wouldn’t make it through the first word. He felt Natalie take his hand and Michael sit on the bed beside him. Micky felt so calm with all his loved ones around him. He felt as if he could face anything the world put in front of him.  
Tess added her voice to the song.  
"Oh, come Angel band  
Come and around me stand  
Oh, bear me away on your snow white wings  
To my immortal home."  
Mike closed his eyes and felt the music. He swore he could hear another voice, one that sounded a lot like the woman he met in the bar.  
"Oh, come Angel band  
Come and around me stand."  
Mike opened his eyes and thought he could see three people standing in the corner, one of them being the man he saw in the POW camp. Mike smiled, knowing that everything would be all right, no matter the outcome of tomorrow’s surgery. There were angels watching over them. There always had been.  
"Oh, bear me away on your snow white wings  
To my immortal home." 

 

*THE END*


End file.
